Wildheart's World of Warriors
by WildheartTheWarrior
Summary: Join Wildheart and her crew as they torment the Clans! On the way to stardom, will they be able to deal with the challenges they face?...Rated T for language.
1. Opening

**A/N: Well, hi! WildheartTheWarrior here with her first attempt at something humorous: a Warriors truth-or-dare show!**

...It's so original, isn't it?

*clears throat* Well, enjoy the first chapter anyway!

Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors. If I did, Hollyleaf wouldn't have died in The Last Hope. And IvyXHawk would be canon.

~000~

Everything was dark. All that could be heard were the sound of muffled pawsteps.

"Ugh!" A loud meow broke the silence. "It's so dark in here!"

"I know, right?" came a male voice. "Dude, if something pops out of nowhere—"

"Penguinpaw, shh!" snapped the first voice.

There was the sound of someone rummaging around. "Where's the friggin' light switch?" yowled a third voice.

There was an angry hiss of pain. "That was my tail, nimrod!" snarled the first voice.

"Well, excuse _me_ for not seeing where I'm going _BECAUSE IT'S DARK IN HERE!"_ came the reply.

"Wait, I think I found it!" meowed the first voice.

With a loud _click,_ light filled the room to reveal an old-fashioned theater. Seats covered in red velvet stood in rows facing the stage, and boxes lined the upper walls. Moth-eaten velvet curtains hung down over the stage, which was coated in a layer of dust. An ornate crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling.

Two cats were standing in the middle of the room. One was a tortoiseshell she-cat with blue eyes and ginger paws. The second was a slim, ginger-and-brown tabby with four white paws and bright green eyes. Each cat wore a different expression; the tortoiseshell seemed indifferent, and the tabby was wearing an expression of awe.

"Whoa," the tabby meowed, grinning. "This place is so cool!" She looked around at her surroundings. "I don't get why the manager sold this place so cheap!"

The other she-cat yawned, then spluttered as she inhaled a mouthful of dust. "Well, he DID say it was for his health," she pointed out. "And it _is_ dusty in here." She sneezed, rubbing her nose. "I STILL don't get why you bought this old place, Wildheart."

Wildheart rolled her eyes. "Because, Roselight," she replied. "If we're ever going to make it big with a show of our own, don't we need a studio first? Not to mention it was dirt cheap!"

"...Point taken," Roselight admitted.

"We also need a crew, Wildheart continued. "You called up your friends, right?"

The tortoiseshell nodded. "Goldfeather said she's definitely in," she said.

Wildheart grinned. "Epic!" she said, fist-pumping. "We need her singing voice. And Penguinpaw said—"

She paused. "Where the Dark Forest did he go?" she snapped.

"He wasn't here when the lights turned on," Roselight offered.

Before Wildheart could reply there was a crash from the other room. A black-and-white tom with amber eyes bounced in, grinning from ear to ear and holding a laser pointer. "LOOK WHAT I FOUND!" he screamed. "A FRICKIN' LASER!" The tom promptly turned it on and waved it wildly, the red light bouncing off of every surface. Wildheart and Roselight recoiled as the light reflected into their eyes.

"There he is," Wildheart sighed.

After a few moments, Penguinpaw slowed, his eyes growing huge as he took in his surroundings. "Whoa," he said. "This place is epic!" He dropped the laser pointer and started darting around to investigate the theater. "Dude it's all like...old, and stuff!"

Wildheart and Roselight exchanged glances.

"...Are you sure it was a good idea to bring Penguinpaw?" Roselight muttered out of the side of her mouth.

"...No..." Wildheart replied uncertainly. "But he IS my brother. He's kind of _my_ problem."

As Penguinpaw catapulted off one of the seats, Wildheart seized him by the scruff and set him down. She grabbed him by the shoulders. "Dude. Chill."

Penguinpaw blinked owlishly and sat down in the seat he had just been jumping on. "I still think this place is epic," he said.

Roselight crossed her arms. "Okay," she said. "Now that we have our studio, what do we do now?"

"Well, we have to set up, spread the word out..." Wildheart glanced around. She prodded a seat, which immediately puffed out a cloud of dust. "And we _may_ have to clean this place up a little before we can air," she added, waving a paw in front of her face

"Because that _totally_ wasn't obvious when we first walked i ," Roselight deadpanned.

Wildheart shot her a glare. But at that moment, a jazzy showtune played merrily from one of her many pockets. Roselight and Penguinpaw stared at her as she pulled out a brightly colored iPhone and put it to her ear.

"Hello?" she meowed. The ginger-and-brown tabby smiled. "Goldfeather! How are you?" After a pause, she nodded. "Good, good." She nodded some more. "Uh-huh...uh-huh..." Her face lit up again. "Really? That's great! Of course you can bring them! Okay! Bye!"

She hung up, a bright smile on her muzzle. "Goldfeather said she managed to round up a few friends!" she announced. "They're going to help us put on the show!"

Both cats grinned. "Boo-yah!" Penguinpaw cheered. "Stardom, here we come!"

"Not yet," Wildheart said. "We've got some work to do first!" With that, she darted for the door and beckoned to the other two cats. "Come on! We have a show to set up!"

Roselight tromped after her friend while Penguinpaw bounded along behind. Glancing back at the old theater, he grinned. "Hey Wildheart," he mewed. "How cool would it be if this place was haunted?"

Wildheart rolled her eyes. "Doubt it," she said as she trotted out the door.

The black-and-white tom took one more look at the dusty building. Then he padded after the other cats, turning the lights off and leaving only the sunlight shining through the windows to light the room. There was the sound of the door opening and shutting, then silence.

~000~

Penguinpaw had been more right than he'd realized. As the lights turned out, a pair of sinister yellow eyes watched the trio leave from the shadows above the stage. A shape shifted, and a jet-black tom wearing a suit, cape, and mask stepped out of the gloom.

For a few moments the masked tom stood there, staring at the empty theater. "So someone's moved into my theater?" he hissed. An insane smile spread across his face.

"Well, won't this be fun!"

~000~

**...It gets better, I promise. This was just a kind of intro chapter. The other crew members will be introduced next chapter.**

The first cat to be dared will be Breezepelt. Feel free to send in dares via PM! Not that I have a problem with anonymous reviews...I just don't want this to be deleted :/


	2. Introductions

Wildheart grinned at the room that stood before her. After three days of vigorous cleaning and work, the theater was now practically sparkling. She, Roselight, and Penguinpaw (well, mostly her and Roselight) had swept and scoured the floors, vaccuumed the seats and the curtains, polished the stage—Wildheart had even managed to climb up and clean the chandelier. Not only that, but they had already rigged the stage with lights, cameras...and a few _special_ surprises for the "guest stars."

"Doesn't this place look amazing now?" Wildheart said proudly.

"Yup," Roselight replied, not looking up from her PSP, which was emitting all sorts of explosions and gunshot sounds as her paws worked the controls vehemently.

"...Playing Call of Duty again?" Wildheart asked. "They make that for PSP, right?"

"Yup," Roselight said.

"Well, don't let Penguinpaw see that," her ginger-and-brown friend warned. "He broke our PS3 last week."

Roselight's brows raised, and at that moment the tom in question wandered into the room, clutching his laser pointer and humming what sounded suspiciously like The Phantom of the Opera. The moment he saw Roselight with her game, he immediately made a beeline for her while the tortoiseshell held her precious PSP out of reach. Before a fight could break out, though, Wildheart's iPhone rang. She pulled it out, putting it to her ear. "Wildheart here."

"Hey," came a female voice from the other end. "I'm on my way there!"

Wildheart smiled. "That's great, Goldfeather!" she said cheerfully. "Everyone else with you?"

"Of course!" Goldfeather replied. "They're all really excited. Oh, and I picked up Twitchpaw, too." She sighed. "Poor thing. He's been panicking all the way here."

A sudden scream came through the phone, making Wildheart wince. "HELP!" a tom's voice wailed from the other end. "I CAN'T MOVE! WHY CAN'T I MOVE? _AAAAHHHHHHH—"_

Wildheart cringed, moving the phone away from her ear to rub it. "Try giving him a paper bag," she said loudly, trying to speak over the apprentice's screams. "Tell him to calm down and breath into it."

A crinkling sound was heard. After a few moments, the screams died down. Wildheart let out a sigh of relief.

"Okay," Goldfeather said. "We're at the turn signal n—"

_"GOLDFEATHER, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"_

The she-cat on the phone suddenly let out a yelp, and Wildheart heard the sound of brakes squealing over the phone. The ginger-and-brown tabby winced again when she heard a crash. "We're almost there! I have to go, bye!" Goldfeather finished hastily, and the phone went dead.

Wildheart put the phone back in her pocket. "They're on their way," she said. "And from the sound of it, Goldfeather was driving."

Roselight and Penguinpaw, frozen in the middle of a tug-of-war with the PSP, both grimaced.

"Ouch," said Penguinpaw, reluctantly releasing the game.

"My sister might be a great singer," Roselight said, "but she can't drive worth a—"

Suddenly, there was an almighty screech from outside. They all bolted out the door in confusion to see an orange-and-black tiger-striped Mustang careening down the street, smoke flying from the tires. The car finally came to a stop in front of the theater. Steam was hissing out from under the hood, and all three cats gaped at it in shock.

"Um, Roselight?" Penguinpaw asked tentatively. "Isn't that _your_ car?"

Roselight's blue eyes bugged out of her head. "Wha..." A look of horror spread over her face. "NO!" she wailed, running over and throwing herself down in front of the car.

A dainty-looking, golden tabby she-cat with white patches and blue eyes tumbled out of the driver's side, looking dazed as she stumbled past the bawling Roselight. "Whoa!" she said. "Remind me to _never_ drive that car again!"

Wildheart grinned. "Nice to see you, Goldfeather!" she replied. The passenger doors opened, and two more cats piled out of the Mustang.

"That wasn't _that_ bad," meowed a thick-furred brown tom with pale gold eyes.

"Please," sniffed a green-eyed white she-cat. "You're only saying that because Goldfeather is your girlfriend, Oakfur."

"I am _not,_ Swansong!" Oakfur protested. "I just—"

But before he could say anything else, a light gray tom with blue eyes tripped out of the Mustang and landed flat on his face.

_"Land!"_ he cried, kissing the sidewalk. "Sweet, sweet land!"

"Don't do that!" wailed a voice from inside the car. "You'll get salmonella and E. coli and tuberculosis and—"

"Hey, Tumblepaw!" Penguinpaw greeted. Leaning over to peer inside the car, he added, "Hey, Twitchpaw!"

Twitchpaw—a brown tabby tom with yellow eyes and a white chest—stopped listing diseases and returned the greeting with a quiet "Hi." Tentatively eying the ground, he clambered out of the car.

Goldfeather glanced around at everyone. "Okay," she said. "Now that the introductions have been made..." She quirked an eyebrow at Wildheart. "Don't we have a show to run?"

The ginger-and-brown tabby looked at her as if she had two heads. "Of course we do!" She darted inside, everyone else following.

"All right," she said. "Roselight, Goldfeather, you're hosts with me."

Both cats nodded, Roselight still sniffling over the loss of her beloved car.

"Oakfur and apprentices, you're backstage and security."

"Does this mean we get to hit stuff?" Penguinpaw asked hopefully.

Wildheart face-pawed. "Yes," she deadpanned. "Yes, it does."

Oakfur shrugged, while Penguinpaw and Tumblepaw high-fived. Twitchpaw started mumbling about germs.

"And Swansong," Wildheart finished, "you'll be the camera cat."

Swansong scowled. "Why do I have to be behind the camera?" she complained.

"Because I'm the boss and I said so." The tabby turned to her new backstage/security cats with a maniacal smile. "Your first task as security cats is to fetch Breezepelt," she told them.

The four exchanged eager looks and padded off, leaving the others alone in the theater.

"All right, places everyone!" Wildheart said excitedly. "Time to rehearse!"

As she shooed her cast into place, Wildheart grinned at the theater.

"Let the show begin!" she declared.

****

~000~

Now that everyone's been introduced (well, _mostly_ everyone) the actual show is going to start next chapter. Remember to send in your dares (via PM, please) as well as future cat suggestions!

Wildheart out!


	3. Breezepelt

Ivypool was beyond bored. Most days, ThunderClan was actually doing something this time of day. But now, everyone was simply lazing around. There were no patrols, no training sessions...Firestar hadn't even left his den all day.

The silver-and-white she-cat sighed, pulling herself to her paws. There was no point in laying around out here. So she padded across camp, stepping over flopped figures, and walked into the apprentice den.

Dovewing was already there, sprawled on he stomach in front of the television. The gray she-cat shifted over to make room for her sister.

"There's nothing on," Dovewing informed her dully. "I already went through all the channels twice."

"Well, go through them again!" Ivypool sighed. "I'm bored out of my mind!"

Dovewing rolled her eyes, but snatched up the remote and started flipping through the channels.

It looked like Dovewing had been right; there was nothing on, save for a few re-runs of old soap operas and sitcoms.

"There has to be _something_ on!" Ivypool complained.

Dovewing sighed. "Let's just shut it off," she said. "We can find something else to do."

But as the pale she-cat was about to hit the power button, a commercial caught Ivypool's eye. "Wait!" she said, holding a paw out to stop her sister.

_"Wildheart's World of Warriors!"_ the announcer-cat said. "An all-new show, premiering at sunhigh! Featuring special guest star, Breezepelt!"

The sisters exchanged bemused glances.

"Is this another one of those weird torture shows?" Dovewing asked confusedly.

"I have no clue," Ivypool replied. "But if it is..." She smirked. "I would love nothing more than to watch Breezepelt get flayed right now." Taking the remote from Dovewing, she changed to the advertised channel just as the opening title came on.

**~000~**

The camera panned around to show the theater before zooming in on the stage. A coffee table had been set up in the middle. Three comfortable-looking red velvet armchairs were set up around it—Wildheart, Roselight, and Goldfeather were sitting in them, facing the audience and smiling winningly.

"Hi, everyone!" Wildheart said, waving at the camera. "Welcome to—"

_"WILDHEART'S WORLD OF WARRIORS!"_ Roselight yowled, fist-pumping. "BOO-YAH, M—"

Goldfeather quickly slapped a paw over the tortoiseshell's mouth. "You'll have to excuse my sister," she said embarrassedly. "She had a Red Bull right before we went live."

Wildheart ignored the two, continuing on with the show. "I'm Wildheart—"

"I'M ROSELIGHT!" Roselight screamed.

"And I'm Goldfeather!" Goldfeather said with a smile. "We're here to...well...make you Clan cats do crazy stunts!"

Wildheart grinned at the camera. "So please welcome our very first guest...Breezepelt!"

The crowd cheered—whether for Breezepelt or for his demise, no one knew—as Oakfur dragged the black-furred WindClan warrior onto the stage. Plopping him into a chair that had risen out of the floor, the brown tom chained Breezepelt to it. Saluting the audience, he smiled at Goldfeather before ducking backstage.

The black tom struggled, eyes blazing with anger. "Who are you?" he snarled. "Let me go!"

"Not likely," Wildheart said. "See, you're on my truth or dare show. Meaning," she continued, pulling out a cream-colored envelope, "you can't leave until you do everything on this list!" She grinned maniacally at Breezepelt, who shrank down in his seat.

"First up," she said, unfolding her piece of paper, "you have to slap Crowfeather!"

Oakfur reappeared, leading a grumpy-looking Crowfeather onto the stage. Goldfeather released Breezepelt, pointing at the tom's father. "Go ahead, Breezy."

Breezepelt swallowed. Raising a paw, he smacked Crowfeather across the face.

The dark gray warrior's head snapped to one side. He blinked at his son in surprise. Then, baring his teeth, he punched Breezepelt right back.

The unfortunate tom fell flat on his tail, clutching his muzzle as Crowfeather stomped offstage to sit in the audience. Wildheart was barely containing giggles, while Goldfeather had one paw over her mouth. Roselight, however, hadn't moved from her seat—apparently she'd crashed soon after the show had started and was slumbering peacefully through the commotion.

"All right, Breezepelt," Wildheart said as he dragged himself to his paws. "Now it's time for you to take a little swim!"

Without warning, the floor opened up beneath Breezepelt to reveal a shark-infested pool underneath his paws. The poor tom dropped into it, squealing as the sharks immediately began to circle him. Wildheart winced as he disappeared beneath the waves and the sharks began their attack.

Swansong pulled the camera around to face away from the scene, smiling winningly at the camera. "Greetings, citizens of the Clans! My name is—"

_"SWANSONG!"_ came Wildheart's annoyed voice. _"TURN THAT CAMERA BACK AROUND!"_

The white she-cat scowled ferociously, but did as she was told. "Nobody appreciates me!" she whined.

Wildheart shot a glare in her direction, but at that moment Breezepelt bobbed to the surface of the water, missing huge chunks of fur and looking utterly miserable as he dragged himself out.

"Am I done yet?" he whimpered.

"Not quite," Wildheart said in a too-cheerful voice. "You have one more dare to do."

Breezepelt closed his eyes, looking as if he were about to cry. Wildheart clapped her paws, and Oakfur came back on stage for a third time. This time, he was leading Lionblaze, Jayfeather, and Hollyleaf behind him. Wildheart then turned back to Breezepelt, handing him a piece of paper she seemed to have procured out of nowhere. "Read this to them."

Breezepelt tore his angry gaze away from his half-siblings and glanced at the paper. In an instant, his amber eyes bugged out of his head. "I'm not doing that!" he yelped.

"Oh, yes you are!" Wildheart replied cheerily. "And if you don't..." She grinned at him. "You will face my wrath!"

Lightning flashed behind her, courtesy of the backstage cats. Wildheart threw her head back and let out an insane laugh that made Goldfeather shiver and Breezepelt cower. "Believe me," Goldfeather said. "You do NOT want to face Wildheart's wrath."

"Fine, fine..." Breezepelt mumbled. Shuffling over to his half-siblings, he sighed. "You guys are the best siblings ever," he deadpanned.

"With _feeling,_ Breezy!" Wildheart yowled.

Breezepelt closed his eyes again, muttering darkly under his breath. He plastered a large smile on his face. "You guys are the best siblings ever!" he gushed, throwing his paws around Lionblaze, Hollyleaf, and Jayfeather.

The three simply stared at him for a few moments as he hugged them. Then all three aimed a punch at Breezepelt. Jayfeather missed (of course), Hollyleaf got him in the stomach, and Lionblaze hit him in the exact same spot that Crowfeather had hit him. Breezepelt was hurled backwards by the force of Lionblaze's blow, smashing through the opposite wall.

Wildheart snickered. "Ooh, that's gotta hurt," she said.

Turning back to the camera, she shrugged. "Well, that's all we have for you today, folks!" she announced. "Our next guest star on _Wildheart's World of Warriors_ will be the infamous Scourge, leader of BloodClan! Be sure to send in your truths and dares for him!" Grinning, she waved goodbye to the camera. "See you next time on—"

_"Wildheart's World of Warriors!"_ the audience echoed.

**~000~**

Ivypool and Dovewing stared at the TV screen, jaws hanging to the ground. Then the two exchanged huge smiles.

"Hey, everyone!" Ivypool called, leaping up. "Come and look at this!"

**~000~**

As Swansong turned off the camera, Wildheart turned to Goldfeather. "I think that went well," she commented. "Think so?"

The gold-and-white she-cat nodded. "That was fun!" she said cheerfully.

Oakfur padded back out onto the stage, crossing it to where Breezepelt was painfully extracting himself from the ruins of the wall. The brown tom pulled the WindClan cat to his paws. "I'll have to fix that later," he remarked, eying the pile of rubble.

"First, could you bring poor Breezepelt home?" Wildheart asked.

Oakfur nodded. Taking Breezepelt by the paw, he led the trembling, traumatized tom offstage.

Swansong got out from behind the camera, stretching. "I still don't see why I have to be the camera-cat," she grumbled as she crossed to where Roselight was still sleeping in her chair. "I mean, look at Roselight! She slept through the whole episode! I would have made a _way_ better co-host!" Swansong then roughly shook said she-cat awake—the tortoiseshell rocketed out of her seat, head whipping from side to side. "Wha—where am I?"

After blinking at everyone and taking in the surroundings, her shoulders slumped. "I missed the episode, didn't I?"

"No, of course not," Swansong replied dryly. "We're all just standing around here watching the audience leave because it's fun."

Roselight stomped her paw. "Dangit!" she snapped. "And it was the first one, too!"

After a few more moments of silence, Goldfeather cleared her throat. "Anyone want to get pizza?" she asked.

There was a collective meow of agreement. "I'll get the apprentices," Wildheart offered, stepping backstage in search of the younger cats.

"And this time, _I'll_ drive," Swansong said quickly, eying Goldfeather warily. Without another word, she turned around and headed for the door. Goldfeather sighed and followed, a pouting Roselight in the rear.

As they reached the door, Goldfeather froze, her fur standing on end, letting her sister tromp past her as a chill ran down her spine. She'd suddenly had the feeling of being watched.

Turning slowly, she scanned the old theater warily for any sign of a cat. She didn't _see_ anything out of the ordinary—wait, what was that? Something had just moved on the balcony...

"Goldfeather?"

Wildheart padded back into the room, Penguinpaw, Tumblepaw, and Twitchpaw in tow. The ginger-and-brown she-cat tilted her head in confusion. "What's wrong?"

Goldfeather glanced back up at the balcony. Nothing unusal. Whatever she had seen must have been a trick of the light.

"Nothing," she said. "Thought I saw something."

Wildheart shrugged, then stepped past her, herding the three apprentices out the door.

Goldfeather sighed and followed her friend...yet she still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something eerie about the old theater.

**~000~**

Ta-da! So, what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Let me know in a review!

The next cat to be dared is Scourge, as stated above. Feel free to send in your truths and dares for him!

Also, one more thing: I'm glad people are sending in their dares, but I would prefer for you to send them in via PM. I don't have anything against anonymous reviewers (heck, I WAS one for like, a year) but I want this story to follow the rules.

~Wildheart out!~


	4. Scourge

**A/N: It's been ages since I updated this. Ah well. I might as well continue it for those who did read it!**

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Warriors (that's why it's **_**fan**_**fiction). Nor do I own anything else I reference.**

* * *

"Deck the halls with boughs of holly! Fa la la la la la la la la!" Wildheart was prancing about the theater, listening to her iPod as she lavishly decorated the walls of the theater with garlands of tinsel and holly wreaths. The first snow of the year had brought Christmas cheer with it, and it had infected the inhabitants of the studio. "'Tis the season to be jolly!" she continued. "Fa la la la la la la la la!"

"How could anyone be jolly?" Twitchpaw whined from beneath a seat. "Winter is influenza season!" the tabby apprentice meowed as Wildheart turned to stare at him. "And when your immune system is weakened, you're more susceptible to diseases like tuberculosis, and _Streptococcus_, and tetanus—"

"Aw, shush," Penguinpaw said as he trotted past with candy canes of all sizes and colors stuck in his black-and-white fur. "Christmas is the best! The store clerks give you free candy canes!" He licked the technicolor candy cane in his paw, then stuck it to his pelt with the others.

"You do know it's been about three months since we cleaned under the seats, right?"

Twitchpaw instantly rocketed out from his hiding place and went screaming down the aisle.

Wildheart turned to face the rest of the theater: Roselight was happily sitting atop the chandelier, stringing it with evergreen garland. Oakfur was standing on a ladder in the back, hanging a large wreath above the entrance. Up in front of the stage, Swansong was decorating each of the twin Christmas trees in typical Swansong style, complete with gigantic, sparkling ornaments and huge strings of brightly-colored lights. Out in the foyer, Goldfeather was in charge of the big Christmas tree; she had chosen a more conservative approach, sticking with more traditional ornaments and soft-colored lights. Penguinpaw was trying to snag more candy canes from the box, and Twitchpaw was still running around and screaming. Tumblepaw trotted in bearing a box of ornaments. Moments later, he tripped and fell flat on his face.

The ginger-and-brown tabby sighed blissfully. "Isn't it great to be back in business?" she said.

The studio had been closed down for a while after the…incidents. Just before they'd begun the filming Scourge's torment, there had been a bunch of weird happenings around the theater. Mostly small things: personal objects that had gone missing to reappear in strange places – they'd blamed Penguinpaw for that. Then the lights had started flickering on and off for no reason – they figured it had been the old wiring.

And then, of course, there was the whole matter of the shaking chandelier and the mysterious pawsteps they'd all heard coming from within the ceiling. They hadn't been able to come up with an explanation for that. The whole thing had come to its climax when during a rehearsal (featuring Roselight's prize Scourge plushie), the power had gone out all at once. A closer look had revealed that the theater's ancient wiring had been fried. Much to their chagrin, they had been informed that it would take a few months to fully fix.

So Halloween had passed (during which Wildheart dug out her old mad scientist costume) and so did Thanksgiving (when Penguinpaw, Tumblepaw and Oakfur had taken part in an eating contest with disastrous results). Now that it was almost Christmas time, the entire team was more than happy to get Wildheart's World of Warriors back on the stage.

And during those months, BloodClan had been without its leader. Scourge had spent nearly five months locked up in Roselight's spare closet in the theater. They'd fed him and gave him water, of course – but nobody knew precisely what the ice-eyed tom was up to. And nobody was too keen to find out.

* * *

"All right," Wildheart said, holding the straws out into the middle of the circle of cats. "The three of us who pull the shortest straws have to go and visit our good friend Scourgey."

Each cat closed their eyes and gingerly drew forth a straw. "Okay," Wildheart said, eyes closed. "On the count of three, we open our eyes. One…two…_three!"_

The crew opened their eyes, glancing to their paws to see how their fates had been decided. Wildheart sighed in relief when she saw that her straw was normal length. But Oakfur stared mournfully at the short straw he held. "Why do I always get the short straw?" he mumbled dejectedly.

"_NOOOOOOOO!"_ Roselight threw down her normal straw with a look of disgust. "_I _wanted to do it!"

"The straws have _spoken_!" Penguinpaw said dramatically, high-pawing Tumblepaw – both apprentices had gotten the other two short straws. "We get to get Scourge!"

"With the supervision of a responsible tom," Wildheart said sternly.

"Whatever," Penguinpaw meowed easily.

Oakfur sighed sadly. "We're doomed," he said.

"May StarClan have mercy on your souls," Wildheart said seriously. Swansong started humming a funeral dirge.

Giving final goodbyes to his stagemates, Oakfur swallowed and led the two apprentices off.

* * *

Down the hall they went, Oakfur bearing a burlap sack with various, hastily-patched slashes in the fabric—it would appear that the bag had been used to house Scourge before. The three crew members tiptoed along the dimly-lit corridor—Oakfur was deathly silent, looking around nervously as if he expected the BloodClan leader to leap from the shadows. Penguinpaw and Tumblepaw, predictably, were sneaking down the hallway spy-style and humming the Mission Impossible theme.

It didn't take very long to find the place; after all, they heard Scourge long before they saw him. They couldn't hear much of it through the walls, but they could definitely hear his high-pitched voice. It almost sounded like he was…singing?

As they padded closer to the door, Oakfur jumped when he heard the grating of what sounded like something sharp on concrete. Curious, the three cats pressed their ears to the door to hear what was going on.

"…and the vermin of the world inhabit it!" Apparently, Scourge _was _singing. And sharpening his claws. _"BUT NOT FOR LONG!"_

Oakfur and the apprentices exchanged bemused looks as Scourge kept belting out the lyrics.

"…Is he singing Sweeney Todd?" Tumblepaw asked.

The bigger brown tom nodded, then shuddered. The vicious leader of BloodClan, singing songs about killing people to get revenge on the world? _That_ was a horrible sign in itself.

"_We AAAAALLLLL DESEEEEERVE TO DIIIIIEEEE!"_ Scourge continued.

Penguinpaw grinned. "I can totally _see _that," he meowed. "Scourge as Sweeney Todd, I mean. You know, the whole—"

A heavy weight suddenly slammed against the door, making all of them squeal. "COME AND VISIT YOUR GOOD FRIEND SCOURGEY!" came the small tom's muffled voice, accompanied by the scraping of his massive claws.

"That whole thing," Penguinpaw finished, looking slightly shaken.

Oakfur, Penguinpaw, and Tumblepaw glanced at each other. "Well," Oakfur said mournfully. "Here goes nothing."

"Goodbye, cruel world!" Penguinpaw said dramatically. Then, all three toms opened the door and jumped inside.

* * *

"_Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away!"_ Goldfeather was singing her favorite Christmas carol to herself to pass the time—despite the fact that she was singing quietly, she was singing it a classically-styled voice. Quite well, actually, despite the anxious look on her face.

Twitchpaw was…well, twitching over in the corner, waiting expectantly for the two other members of the apprentice trio to return. He shuffled his paws, biting his lip and muttering quietly to himself.

Wildheart was pacing the floor, checking her iPod for the time every few moments. "Shouldn't they have been back by now?"

"Probably," Swansong said, checking her fur in the mirror every few moments.

"But knowing Scourge…" Wildheart suddenly trailed off, ears twitching as the muffled sounds of a scuffle came from somewhere outside the room. She stood up confusedly—just as three slightly battered-looking cats burst into the room. "Whoo!" Penguinpaw hollered, running into the room with a stupid grin on his face. "That was totally awesome!"

Tumblepaw tripped into the room. "We almost died!" he informed them gleefully.

Oakfur stumbled after them. He was holding a thrashing, screeching burlap sack well away from himself, trying to keep his balance as he did. "He tried to kill us, obviously," he said as the bag swung back and forth in his paws. "And he was singing Epiphany when we got there."

Wildheart's eyes widened with surprise. Then she grinned. "Really?" she said. "I'm so proud of him!"

Everyone gaped at her. The ginger-and-brown tabby looked around at them. "Not the trying-to-kill-them part," she clarified. "The singing part." She tipped her head thoughtfully. "You know, I could totally see that."

"That's what I said!" Penguinpaw agreed.

"Um, hello?" Oakfur was grimacing, trying to keep the bag steady. There was a loud ripping sound as a pair of wickedly-sharp dog claws tore through the fabric. "A little help here?" Oakfur squeaked.

"Oh! Right!" Penguinpaw suddenly picked up a nearby hammer and smacked the bag with it. Needless to say, it didn't help and Penguinpaw suddenly found himself holding half of a hammer. "Whoa!" he exclaimed, grinning and feeling the cleanly-sliced edge with his paw. "That's epic!"

Finally, Oakfur couldn't contain Scourge's rage any longer. The bag fell out of his paws and hit the ground with a thud. With a rip, the bag was torn open from the inside as Scourge leapt out of the ruins of the burlap sack with a snarl of rage. His black fur was messy from the earlier struggle, and his ice-blue eyes blazed with rage. Strangely, he was also wearing a green T-shirt that read _I'm not short, I'm Scourge-sized!_ in large blue letters.

"_I AM THE ALL-POWERFUL SCOURGE!"_ the tiny tyrant roared dramatically. _"BOW BEFORE MY MIGHT OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!"_

Wildheart raised one brow at the small tom. But Roselight immediately threw herself on the ground and flattened herself to the theater floor. "Yes, my love!" she declared. "Anything you say, my love!"

Swansong rolled her eyes. "Rose, darling, you're embarrassing yourself. Do yourself a favor and get your fat tail off that filthy floor."

But Roselight kept bowing zealously to the black tom, who watched her with a mildly entertained expression. "This one amuses me," Scourge declared. "I have decided to spare her life."

Wildheart blinked at the tom's sudden change of mood from axe-crazy psychopath to miniature dictator-king-guy. "Okay, so…yeah. I'm Wildheart, the head honcho around here. This is our show – "

"Wildheart's World of Warriors," Scourge finished casually. "You made a fool out of the weak Breezepelt." He smirked. "I found it amusing."

"…Yeah." Wildheart smiled. "You're next on the breaking list."

Scourge curled his lip. "Foolish mortal!" he growled ferociously. "I am the mighty Scourge, ruler of all cats! I cannot be broken!"

"Oh, yeah?" The tabby she-cat handed him his list of dares. The tiny cat scoffed, then turned his icy gaze to the list. His face went slack with shock.

Wildheart couldn't keep the smile off her face. "I thought so," she said, clapping her paws together. Oakfur ran off to fetch the extra things, and Wildheart led the catatonic Scourge off-stage to prepare him for his ordeal. "Now, let's start with number one…"

* * *

About an hour later, the theater was abuzz with the voices of toms and she-cats alike as they whispered interestedly to each other. It had been a long time since any of them had even seen the show, if they'd even seen it – they'd only aired once, after all.

After a few moments, the lights in the old-fashioned theater dimmed. The stage lit up suddenly, revealing Wildheart, Roselight, and Goldfeather sitting in their respective chairs.

"Good evening, everyone!" Wildheart greeted, getting to her paws. "And welcome to this long-overdue episode of Wildheart's World of Warriors!" She smiled apologetically into the camera, which Swansong was still manning. "We're sorry for you guys who were actually waiting for this episode. There were some…ah…technical difficulties involving the theater's electrical system." She spread her paws wide. "So we hope you enjoy this episode!"

The crowd of cats in the audience clapped their paws together as Goldfeather got to her paws. "For today's episode, we'd like you to welcome our…special guest!" She smiled. "He's the tyrannical leader of BloodClan who rules with an iron paw – complete with razor-sharp claws –"

"AND HE'S AMAZING!" Roselight chimed in.

"Please welcome the original pint-sized powerhouse himself…Scourge!"

The audience began to cheer again as the black tom stepped onto the stage, face stony and tight with anxiety. Wildheart grinned "encouragingly" at him. "Have a seat, my good tom," she said, gesturing to the empty seat across from the three. The black tom swallowed visibly before lifting his chin defiantly and sitting down in the chair.

"All right," Wildheart said, folding her paws. "First up –"

"I LOVE YOU, SCOURGE!" Roselight yowled, very nearly losing her cool on the spot. "I THINK YOU'RE AWESOME AND YOU TOTALLY SHOULD HAVE BEAT FIRETARD AND—" The gingery tortoiseshell was silenced by a swift whack on the head from Goldfeather.

"Anyways," Wildheart said. "I'm sure all of us want to know…how exactly _did_ you get to be as screwed up as you are today?"

Scourge's ears twitched, and he growled quietly. "Well," he managed to grind out in a manner that sounded extremely rehearsed. "I was born. And then I went to Twolegplace. And then – "

"Aw, come on!" Wildheart said, smiling not-so-innocently at him. "You're going to have to give us more than that! Let's hear the details!" She gave him a knowing look.

Scourge was silent, grinding his teeth. And then he opened his mouth.

Roughly fifteen minutes later, the fearsome tom was bawling his eyes out, rocking back and forth in the chair. In the backround, one of the toms had turned on some incredibly cliché sad violin music. "And then the big meanie cat hit me with a big stick and he chased me away from the pretty forest and I had to go live in the big dirty smelly place and wear this stupid collar with the stupid teeth and…and…" Scourge's eyes were welling up with tears. "And I WANT MY MOMMY!" he wailed, stuffing his white paw into his mouth and sucking on it like a pacifier.

The other three she-cats glanced at each other with surprise. "O…kay…then," Wildheart said. "I guess we should move on to the next dare!"

She clapped her paws again, and Oakfur led Scourge briefly off-stage. Meanwhile, Goldfeather disappeared for a brief moment. Not much later, both cats reappeared on stage. Scourge was now wearing a rather handsome tuxedo, while on the other side of the stage, Goldfeather was leading a confused-looking Sandstorm on from the other side. Both cats were nudged into the middle of the stage. Firestar's mate stared warily at the BloodClan leader.

Scourge let out a deep sigh through his nose. Then he got down on one knee and pulled a ring-box from the depths of his tux. "Sandstorm…beloved…" he ground out. "Will you marry me?"

The ginger she-cat gawked at him. But before she could answer, a ginger blur suddenly leapt onto the stage and punted him through the opposite wall. "Get your sharp little claws off my wife!" Firestar said angrily, readying himself to attack Scourge again.

Wildheart and Roselight exchanged glances. Then they leapt at Firestar, restraining the ThunderClan leader and preventing the second attack while Oakfur helped Scourge to his paws. "Just one more," he said sympathetically. "Then you can go home."

Poor Scourge got back on his paws, looking as if he couldn't decide whether he wanted to burst into tears or attack everyone within paw's reach.

"I have something I have to admit to everyone," he said in a dull monotone.

Firestar turned to stare at him. The small black tom took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "It's time I came out of the closet," he announced.

Everyone went silent. Then Firestar jumped to his paws again, pointing triumphantly at Scourge. "I _knew_ there was something going on between you and Ashfur!" he yowled.

* * *

Back in the ThunderClan camp, every eye turned to Ashfur who was gawking at the television screen. "But that's not true!" he wailed. "I love _you,_ Squirrelflight!" He pointed to the ginger she-cat, who rolled her eyes and resumed whispering to Brambleclaw, Sighing mournfully, a bewildered Ashfur to stare at the TV screen once more.

* * *

Scourge kept backing slowly away from Firestar, who was still raving. "And I bet you just wanted to be Sandstorm's mate as a cover!" he said, waving his paws wildly. Wildheart watched them with slight amusement as Roselight and Sandstorm joined the fray to protect their respective loves before turning back to the camera. "Well, that's all we have tonight! On the next episode, our guest will be the infamous Tigerstar!" She saluted everyone with a smile as Firestar flung himself at Scourge again. "Good night, everyone!"

* * *

After everyone else had filed slowly out of the theater, they finally managed to break up the battle between the four feuding felines. Wildheart was holding back Roselight, Goldfeather had Firestar in a headlock, and Swansong was struggling to pin Sandstorm. It was taking the combined efforts of Oakfur and the apprentice trio to hold back Scourge, who was still flailing about and trying to attack everyone he could reach. Finally, all four cats had been subdued, though Scourge was still screaming "I'LL BITE YOUR LEGS OFF!" at the top of his lungs.

"All right, everyone calm down!" Wildheart yowled. Every eye turned to her. "You _do_ understand that none of this was real, right?" she told Firestar and Sandstorm. "This was all part of the show. Scourge doesn't want to marry you, and he's not gay. Though I'm not entirely sure about Ashfur…"

The two ginger cats let out an "oh" of understanding, but continued to mutter under their breath as they walked away. The crew finally released Scourge, who hissed angrily and ripped off the tuxedo, leaving only his shirt beneath it. The small black tom sniffed disdainfully and began grooming his fur, as if to retain what dignity he had and rid himself of the humiliation he had just been put through.

Wildheart coughed awkwardly. "Well, er…I guess you can go home now," she said lightly. "Unless…" She paused. "Well, it's the Christmas season. If you'd like to stay, you're welcome to."

Scourge stood up, dusting himself off with his nose in the air. "I don't think I will," he meowed coldly. "If you'll excuse me, I have a reputation to repair."

Wildheart frowned, but shrugged. "Oh, well," she said, sounding mildly disappointed. "You can't say I didn't try to be friendly. No hard feelings, all right?"

She stretched. "Why don't you close up?" she offered. "You guys can head over to my place and set up Nightmare Before Christmas, and I'll catch up with you later!"

The rest of the crew nodded in agreement, waving their goodbyes to Wildheart as the patched tabby went around, turning off all of the Christmas lights. As they filed out the door, Scourge stepped out, sniffing as he kept his head high.

"Psst…Scourgey!"

The black tom stopped as Roselight paused outside the door, producing a package seemingly from nowhere and pressing it into his paws. "Merry Christmas!" she sad cheerfully, skipping off down the street and humming Jack's Lament quietly to herself.

Scourge stared bemusedly at the package in his paws. Then he set off in the opposite direction with a thoughtful expression on his face.

* * *

Wildheart pranced about the theater, shutting off all the lights and making sure everything was tidied up. She started humming again as she picked up loose bits of paper, tossing them into the garbage.

She didn't notice the shadowy figure that trailed after her with silent pawsteps.

The she-cat kept humming what sounded vaguely like The Music of the Night to herself as she bent down to flick off the switch for the Christmas tree in the foyer—when suddenly a voice echoed out of the darkness behind her.

"Bravo, my dear Wildheart…I must say that was very well done."

She let out a gasp and whirled around instantly to see a dark-pelted tom emerge from the shadows, yellow eyes gleaming eerily in the dim lighting from the Christmas tree, clapping his paws slowly. He smiled. "Hello, Wildheart. Miss me?"

* * *

**All right, so as you read Tigerstar is next up. Feel free to send in dares or questions via PM if you want to! If not…well, I have a creative mind :)**

**Merry Christmas and happy holidays to everyone, and Wildheart out!**


End file.
